


Style and Grace and a Smile Upon Your Face

by Miaou Jones (miaoujones)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Timeline, F/M, Friendship, Love, M/M, Multi, Public Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-03
Updated: 2011-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-14 09:45:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaoujones/pseuds/Miaou%20Jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe this is what it means to be human. (Alternate timeline for Season 1, Episode 22.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Style and Grace and a Smile Upon Your Face

She does it before she knows she's moving; her open palm collides with Kida's cheek and slides across it. Her action surprises her almost as much as it must surprise Kida, but she stands by it. Fallen to her side again, her hand clenches in a fist and she bites her lip as she looks at him. He's not looking at her, though. His face is angled away, holding where her slap knocked it.

"Kida," she says. She wants him to look at her, to meet her eyes so he can believe her when she tells him she only did it because she doesn't want him to hurt anyone, especially himself; she wants him to believe her when she says she doesn't want him to be hurt anymore.

He doesn't look, though. His eyes stay closed, his face stays slanted away. She's about to say his name again when he says, "Do that again." He turns, opening his eyes onto hers. "Do it—hit me again." The words have the form of a challenge, but there's no challenge in the way he says them, the way he's looking at her.

Anri often finds people difficult to read. So she may not understand why Kida wants this or even exactly what it is that he wants, but she feels as sure as she's ever felt of anything that he _does_ want it. Uncertainly, she raises her hand.

Kida's eyes flicker as they go to her hand, then back to her face. He swallows, moistens his lips, and she reads the word there more than hears it, it's so soft: "Please."

She bites the inside of her lip as her hand connects with his face this time. She doesn't think this slap was harder than the first but Kida takes a half-step back, slumps against the wall, slides down it, pushing off only to fall forward onto his knees, head bowed.

Looking at him like that, Anri thinks she's made a mistake. She misread him; his "please" must have been a plea for mercy not for this. She decides to kneel, too, to apologize, to try to find a way to reach him, to touch him more gently, if she dares.

As her knees are starting to bend, a touch halts her—Kida's hand, cupped around the back of her knee. "Anri." He looks up. When their eyes meet, something lurches from his gaze into her, falling down inside her and curling up in her belly. "Anri~" he breathes. Wisps of his breath drift up and she inhales them, feels them fill her lungs so she has to breathe a little harder. "Anri," Kida breathes again, gazing up at her with a brightness in his eyes that even the night can't fully hide, "do it again."

Her lungs are so full of the way he's saying her name that nothing more will fit in them, so this time she swallows tendrils of his breath, which twine with the coiled gaze in her belly. Her fingers flex then curl. She wants to do it—but, she remembers, there's something else she wants. Something more important than this moment of wanting. "I want you to be all right."

Some of the brightness in his eyes spills as he smiles, not the wide open smile Kida so often wears, but one of hints and soft edges that is no less real, and maybe more so. "Then make me all right."

She hits him again. The sharp thud of flesh on flesh is overlapped by a low moan emanating from Kida. The breath and gaze inside her vibrate in response and he doesn't need to ask this time—she slaps him again, hard enough to make his lashes flutter and his lips shape this moan into her name.

His fingers splay as his hand slides up the back of her leg from her knee to her thigh, his touch sinking beneath her skin, calling wordlessly to the curled gaze and breaths in her belly, which uncoil now and wend down to recurl between her legs. Kida reaches for the hand she's been using and she allows him to take it, watches as he brings it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm, transmuting the stinging to a vibration that hums through her blood on its way to join the tendrils of sensation between her legs. He kisses her open hand again, again, again; kisses with his mouth, kisses with his cheek, rubbing it along the curve of her hand. She hardly recognizes her own voice as she says his name. His eyes flicker up to meet hers before he closes them and leans forward to kiss her again, _there_.

She grabs a fistful of his hair but doesn't pull him off. He comes off himself, catching the fabric of her skirt between his teeth and drawing it away from her body before letting it slip free to brush against her. Both his hands are on her thighs, his fingertips telegraphing something on her skin in a language she doesn't know, one her body aches to understand. She wants him to explain it to her, this wordless language of connection. "Kida..."

"Anri." He sits back on his heels, looking up at her. He takes his hands off her and curls his fingers into the hem of her skirt. "I'll kiss you again, unless you stop me."

She bites her lip. "Do you want me to" — _hit you?_ —"stop you?"

His hands tighten against her thighs before he lets go, fluttering without quite blinking. "I want you to make me feel human."

 _That_. That's what Anri wants, too. "Kiss me."

Even though it's only a whisper, he hears her. Closing his eyes, he kneels up as he pushes her skirt up to nuzzle between her legs. One side of her skirt falls as he reaches for her thigh again, higher up, his thumb edging under the elastic of her panties and then pushing them aside so he can kiss her, lips to lips, his tongue dipping inside to reclaim the breath he'd given her before, giving her in its place a brightness, _oh_ , a bright wet heat.

When he sits back, she lets out all the breath she'd been collecting during the kiss. Some of the bright wet heat shimmers along the curve of his smile as he looks up at her. She wonders what it would taste like, if she were to bend and lick it off his lips. She wonders what it feels like to him, doing that to her. She wonders how it makes him feel. She wonders if he feels human or at least, and maybe more importantly, all right.

Her gaze glances off his, turning downward. "Kida...do you feel—are you wet, too?"

"Boys don't get wet, at least not like girls," he says. She looks at him and even though he's not laughing, she feels a rush of heat in her face and lets her gaze drop again. "We get hard."

"Are you." She swallows. Taking a breath, she looks at him. "Are you hard?"

Unaccountably, he puts his hand on her foot. "Do you want to find out?" After a hesitation, Anri nods. "Here," Kida says, bringing her hand to his shoulder. "Use me for balance." She braces herself as he lifts her foot and slips it out of her shoe. Skating his knees out wider, he rests her stockinged foot in his lap. At first as he adjusts her position, sliding her foot down the length of a heat, she doesn't know what she's feeling. Then with a start she understands what he was saying: his bright heat is this hard curve. She presses against it a little, trying to feel it more, and he moans.

"Kida—?"

"Like that, Anri." He lets go of her foot to support himself on his hands as he arches against her. "Oh fuck, please~"

Heat rushes to her face again, and this time the bright wet heat between her legs thrums. She pushes her foot against him, rubbing along his length. When she loses her balance a little and her heel digs into him on the downstroke, his heavy breathing stutters a few times before he catches it and lets out a low moan. She keeps her foot there, pressing harder, drawing out more low, sweet moans as she massages with her heel. "Kida," she says before she can think about it and talk herself out of saying it just because she doesn't know if it's right, "do you want me to hit you again? Here?"

Kida is up, fast and wordless. Leaning against the wall, he undoes his trousers and pulls them down to mid-thigh. His hand hovers at the waistband of his briefs. She doesn't know if he thinks she's uncertain or if it's that he's uncertain himself. Whichever it is, her response will be the same. Holding his gaze, she touches his hand and pushes it to his waistband. Moistening his lips, he tugs the briefs down to join his trousers.

When he looks down, she does, too. She's seen pictures of naked men, of course; that used to be one of Harima's hobbies. But this is different because it's real. And because it's Kida. She looks at his hand, wrapped around the base of his cock. That word, which always used to make her blush when Harima would say it, is somehow even more shocking when she hears it in her own voice, even if that voice is only in her head.

With a deep breath and an almost imperceptible shake of her head, Anri clears her mind and focuses on Kida's cock. It looks...vulnerable. Not frail, not fragile—just, as Anri looks at it, she wants somehow to protect it, to sheathe it safely, maybe, inside her like she does Saika.

Not that this is like Saika. She doesn't know why she thought that, and feels the beginning of a blush coming on.

"You don't have to."

Kida's words make her look up. He's turned his face to the side. He shrugs but doesn't look at her as he says again, "You've already done so much for me tonight. You don't have to."

Except she does. Or at least she wants to. She wants to help Kida feel human, to feel all right; to feel _good_ ; to feel like himself again. Or maybe to feel like himself for the first time. Maybe—maybe she'll even be able to feel those things, too.

So as he reaches down to pull up his clothes, she touches his wrist and steps closer. She means to kiss his cheek, the one he'd rubbed against her hand, but after a moment she only steps back again. Her breath is coming faster now but when she holds out her hand, it's steady. She hears trembles in Kida's voice when he says her name this time, which only steadies her more; she's strong and she can be stronger for him.

She draws in a breath, draws back her hand; she tries not to hold back at all as she sends it towards him hard and fast.

The slap connects; the connection reverberates in her, humming through her bloodstream. It must hum through Kida's, too, because he shivers and arches and his moan pitches higher this time, soft and high and desperate, closer to a small animal than human—so she slaps his cock again. The humming in her pools, wet and vibrating, between her legs; in Kida, it heats and hardens, or at least he feels hotter and harder when she slaps him again. She hits him again, then one more time and his hard heat melts, spurts out of him, drops slick on her skin and himself and lost in the night.

Kida falls to his knees, the ground catching him before she can. He wraps his arms around her waist and kisses the tops of her thighs and this time Anri is the one who pulls her skirt up. Mouthing her through her panties, he uses his hands to coax her around, maneuvering their positions so she has the support of the wall at her back. When she leans back against it, he pulls her panties down, the hints of heat and damp causing her to shiver as he paints them onto her with his breath.

As he kisses her like that, more and more and again and deeper, lips and tongue and breath and the softest, softest scrape of teeth, Anri feels spaces open up inside her, in places she didn't know existed. She lets the skirt drop, stretching her arms up into the night, She doesn't feel empty in those spaces and she doesn't feel full; she feels aware and at the same time there isn't anything else in the world, nothing but this, _this_ —

"...Sonohara? _Sonohara!_ "

She turns as her name is called. As Kida continues to lick inside her, Anri realizes there is nothing in the world but the two of them, and Ryuugamine Mikado.

Ryuugamine is standing at the entrance of the alleyway, one hand on the edge of the building, neither leaning against it nor pushing off but using it as a touchstone for something—the moment, his own existence, verification of one of his senses where others, perhaps, are failing. Anri, one hand falling from the sky to the building solid at her back, thinks she understands.

Their eyes meet and he starts moving. "Sonohara!" he calls again, notes of anguish woven through his voice. "What's—are you all right?"

He takes another step and she can see the distress splashed across his face. Somehow she knows she's the source, which is not what she wants, not at all. She thinks maybe if she can tell him that she's, if not all right, exactly, but something more or other; if she can tell him that, then he'll be all right, too. Words have left her, though. Words have never been her strength, but Kida—maybe Kida's clever tongue still has words.

Anri pulls up her skirt—but as she touches Kida's head, suddenly she cannot bear to lose this connection between them and instead of pushing him back, she pulls him closer. A shockwave of pleasure pulses through her as his clever (oh so clever!) tongue does something inside her. An inarticulate sound, an echo of Kida's slapped vibrations, slips out of her.

Yes, words have left her. And they must have left Ryuugamine, too, because he doesn't say anything as he looks at them, fixed on Kida for long moments, the space of a ragged breath, another, another, before he drags his gaze up to Anri again.

Their eyes have barely met, their gazes brushed up against each other but not quite latched on, when Kida's tongue displays its cleverness in a newly unspeakable way. Ryuugamine falls from her sight as her eyes close, her head arcing back as she digs into Kida, clutching him closer still. The shockwaves join up, one to another, inside her, flood through her, leaving her connected and open in their wake.

As the pulsewaves ebb, lapping softly 'round the edges of her consciousness, she slides down the wall and finds herself supported in Kida's lap. He looks as peaceful, in this moment, as she feels. She looks back at him, reflected, reflecting. She dares to touch his face, the hand she used to slap him rests easy against his cheek. "Masaomi." She calls him that without thinking, the word strange and right.

"Masaomi." A voice not her own this time. She turns and, beneath her hand, feels Kida turning, too.

The look on Ryuugamine's face now is unreadable. Not anguish, she thinks; not purely anguish. She wants to say his name; Kida's the one who does it.

"S-sorry." Blushing furiously, Ryuugamine drops his gaze and starts to turn from them. "I'll go."

"I don't want you to." Still kneeling, Kida reaches out only with his words. His arms tighten around Anri's waist as he sends more words after Ryuugamine. "We don't want you to go." He leans in, his cheek brushing hers, and whispers, "Please, Anri~" She feels more than hears it, Kida wanting Ryuugamine to stay as deeply and hotly as he wanted the slap.

She lets out a breath, draws a new one and, without leaving Kida's lap, turns to face Ryuugamine. Though she has been bold in other things tonight, the smile she offers Ryuugamine as she nods is a shy one. Ryuugamine doesn't smile, doesn't speak, but he also doesn't leave. With an encouraging push from Kida, she gets to her feet and goes to him.

Kida goes, too, but not on his feet. He crawls.

His jeans and briefs, still at mid-thigh where he'd pushed them for her, tangle his tempo but he doesn't stop, and with the next drag of his knee over the ground, they slip down, yielding if not entirely untangling.

"Masaomi!" Ryuugamine drops to his knees. "Are you all right? Oh—" The sharpness of his inhale tells Anri he's seen the darkening marks, bruises-to-be, on Kida's cheek. Ryuugamine cradles his face in one hand. "What happened—who did this to you?"

Heat flushes Anri's face, but Kida touches her shoeless foot and the shame ebbs. As Kida rubs his cheek against Ryuugamine's palm, Anri realizes he isn't going to say anything—and that's the danger, isn't it? Not saying anything when you have words.

"I did it," she blurts out. The boys looks up at her. She looks from one to the other, settling on Ryuugamine as she says, "He—he wanted..."

The furrow of Ryuugamine's brow deepens. He drops his gaze back to Kida.

"There are things about me..." Kida trails off, too.

Ryuugamine remains intent even as his furrowed brow smoothes. "There are things about me, too. I'm the one—"

And then Kida's mouth is on Ryuugamine's.

Not a kiss—well, yes, a kiss—but a gag, too. Anri doesn't know what "one" Ryuugamine is but, from the way Kida's tongue is seeking Ryuugamine's words, she thinks Kida must. She wonders what it could be that Kida doesn't want her to hear, or maybe what he doesn't want to hear himself, even if he knows it. She's always known they're close and it's one of the things that has made it okay for her to be with them: whatever her failings, each boy still has the other. Now she wonders if they are so close that this, not wanting Ryuugamine to share a truth, is the same to Kida as lying to himself.

In the next moment, though, as their lips move against each other so unviolently, she wonders if maybe Kida wasn't trying to stop Ryuugamine at all. Maybe this is a strange and lovely form of communication, one that transcends words; maybe they are tasting meaning on each other's tongues, in each other's breaths—consuming meaning directly from one another.

An attraction finer than gravity tugs her down. Cold seeps into her skin when her knees touch the ground, but she doesn't shiver from it.

When the kiss breaks, Ryuugamine licks his lips and Kida says her name. He's still looking at Ryuugamine, though; the boys are looking at each other, and it's only when Ryuugamine licks his lips again, touches them and then glances down at his fingertip, that Anri realizes he's tasting her. The rush of heat doesn't feel like shame so she lets it surge through her as it will.

Ryuugamine's eyes widen and he starts to turn his head towards her, but his gaze is drawn back sidelong. Hoping, oh _hoping_ it isn't shame keeping his eyes averted, Anri follows his gaze—and sees Kida, as bright and hard as if he'd been slapped.

Kida shifts to get his feet under him, lips quirked in a grin she recognizes now for the mask it is. They've come too far this night for her to give up on him now.

She knocks the smile off his face.

It shouldn't be enough to make him fall—he's withstood harder slaps from her this very night—but nonetheless Kida goes to his knees.

Ryuugamine looks shocked, too stunned even to say her name though he's staring at her. Anri doesn't think he will be able to hit Kida, not even to save either of their lives.

There are other ways to make Kida feel human, though. "Ryuugamine, I think Kida would like to kiss you again."

At last Ryuugamine drags his gaze from her, letting it settle on Kida. "Masaomi...?"

Kida's head remains bowed, his hands curled into fists at his side. Anri moves behind them, dares to thread her fingers in his hair and coax his head up. She sees in Ryuugamine's face the moment Kida opens his eyes. She keeps her eyes on Ryuugamine as she nudges Kida forward.

And: kiss.

When her hand drops from his head, Kida reaches back for her, twining their fingers together briefly before letting go to seek Ryuugamine's hip. Anri sits back, watching them kiss and wondering if they'll be all right with each other now.

Ryuugamine makes a sound and a moment later breaks the kiss. "Wait," he says. His hand is closed around Kida's wrist, the button of his trousers undone and the zip pulled half-way down. "Not here. It's not safe."

But somehow Anri knows Kida needs it to be here. The solidity and dampness and even the filth is grounding him. "It will be all right." She gets up and takes a few step towards the entrance of the alleyway, focusing internally only long enough to let Saika rouse and relay a command to her nearby children. Satisfied, she turns back to the boys. "It's all right now," she tells them. They're just looking at her and she knows she needs more, so she borrows from them: "There are things about me, too." It's all she has. It will have to be enough.

And it is—or at least on this night, in the strange and temporary sanctuary of this alleyway, it seems to be.

Although Ryuugamine is on the ground he looks as if he's falling, so Anri kneels behind him. "I don't think—" he starts, but Kida whispers, "Yes," and she murmurs, "Don't think," and Ryuugamine says no more. Then Kida bends to take Ryuugamine in his mouth.

Ryuugamine arches back and Anri is glad she's there to catch him. He trembles in her arms as Kida starts to suck and Anri thinks of how Kida's mouth felt on her; and as Ryuugamine shivers anew with each pull of Kida's mouth, she imagines the tendrils of thrill wending through him, stretching, straining taut.

It seems to feel different for Ryuugamine than it did for her and it takes her a few moments to understand that it's not a difference between boys and girls, but rather that Ryuugamine is not surrendering inside himself the way she did. Even as his hips arch, his fingers tug at Kida's hair, not to bury himself deeper in Kida's mouth but to try to pull him off.

"Do you not want this, Ryuugamine?" she asks at his ear, voice too soft to reach Kida.

Ryuugamine turns to her, lips parted but wordless. He moistens them, lashes fluttering as Kida continues to suckle, his tongue flicking against the night air in response to something Kida's tongue is doing to him, and Anri understands that Ryuugamine needs another kiss.

She looks over his shoulder, down at Kida, and she can only call it love, the way he's taking Ryuugamine into himself, swallowing Ryuugamine whole; yes, Anri thinks this must be love. And she would never take away love from anyone.

So she tips Ryuugamine's face to her and gives him what he needs. He inhales against her lips and she parts them to capture the inevitable exhale. They breathe against and into one another and Anri starts to open up inside herself again, not like before, spinning slowly around an unearthly axis. She reaches out to anchor herself and finds Kida's hand on Ryuugamine's hip. He lifts his fingers to entwine with hers and together they settle at Ryuugamine's hipbone.

Then Ryuugamine gasps into her mouth and his hand finds theirs, curls tight around them. She swallows his soft cries and stuttered breath, then breaks the kiss so she can watch Kida swallow Ryuugamine's release, so Ryuugamine can watch, too.

Kida pushes himself up to touch his mouth to Ryuugamine's, then to hers; for a moment, they're so close that Kida flicks, soft and wet and easy, from one to the other; and Ryuugamine does, too; and so does Anri.

They're quiet as they get to their feet, arranging their clothing, their hair, themselves. Anri takes the chance to call on Saika once more, dismissing the guards she'd posted and reinforcing their incuriosity about the alleyway.

They don't talk as they walk out into the night. Anri doesn't know if enough has changed, or if it has changed in the right way. She doesn't know how things will go from here, how they will go on.

But when she sees the honest curve of Kida's mouth and the light in Ryuugamine's eyes he can't hide when he glances away from it, and when she feels how easily her lungs pump oxygen when she looks at them, Anri knows that they _will_ go on.


End file.
